Of the Lion's Pride and the Serpent's Prejudice
by hollysarena
Summary: Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us. - RW/SM. On Hiatus.
1. I

**Based on Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_. The idea came to me after reading it and, like everything else, a lot of the things connected to Harry Potter. So, here we are. If you enjoy it, drop me a review. - Holly.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters recognizable from the series. I also do not own Pride and Prejudice, or any of the recognizable references throughout the story.

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><p>Sunlight flitted through the tall, arching windows sending ribbons of gold across the Library floor. The room was silent, as it should have been, except for the sound of paper brushing as pages were turned and the occasionally scribble of a quill. In the farthest corner, surrounded by a barricade of mahogany bookcases, Rose Weasley sat curled in her favourite armchair.<p>

Her eyes skimmed over the flourish of words, painting the image of mist covered moors and fierce heroines on the backs of her eyelids. Beside her, she was aware of Lily Potter's presence, like a whisper among her thoughts; she too was consumed in the pages of a novel. However, those pages were more likely to contain soft-spoken declarations of love rather than the independent women that Rose read about.

Just as that dawning feeling of the end was settling on Rose's stomach – the feeling she got when she was apart to part with a particularly good book – the peace in the Library was disrupted by two familiar, girlish shrieks.

"Rosie! Lily!" Two girls, similar in age, darted through the tables and stacks of books, covering their mouths in vain to smother their giggles. The first - blonde, tall and carrying an ethereal beauty about her – was the first to skid into Rose and Lily's fortress of books, earning herself a reproachful look from the former. "You'll never guess what we just heard!"

The second of the girls, Molly Weasley, shuffled up to Dominique's side, her chestnut curls bouncing on her shoulders. "Yes!" she squealed, earning another look from Rose. "You won't believe it."

"Go ahead and tell us then," said Lily, folding her book into her lap with a polite smile. Despite understanding the sacred value of the Library, she was always the more tolerant towards their younger cousins. Rose, on the other hand, would've hushed them quite violently.

Dominique sucked in a breath as if all of the excitement she contained would cause her to self-combust. "There's going to be a ball!"

A ball? Rose looked at the pair with a frown. "How awfully anticlimactic."

Molly scowled at her with Dominique soon following suit. "Not all of us are lame enough to spend our Saturdays inside _reading_," Molly said.

"Yes," Dominique piped in, but her scowl was soon replaced with a dreamy smile. "But imagine if Timothy Abbott asked me to go!"

Before Molly could set her off into another excited – and loud – ramble, Lily nodded gently towards the newest Librarian, Madame Payne, and gave the Fourth Years a warning look. "It's all very well and exciting, but if you don't leave soon, Payne's going to have you on your knees cleaning for a week."

The pair exchanged a roll of their eyes and smiled to Lily, ignoring Rose's shaken head as they skipped back out exactly the way they had barged in. Rose closed her book with a snap.

"Well, there's my appetite for reading gone," she said, stretching back into the armchair. "Honestly, could they be any louder?"

"They're just excited," Lily retorts gently, her fingers winding in the soft, almond coloured locks of her straight hair. "You might've been too when you were fifteen."

Rose scoffed. "Balls are designed to make people like me feel uncomfortable. There's too much dancing, which you know I don't do, and—"

"You dance perfectly well."

"— there's the horrible, unspoken rule that you have to be nice to everyone, even complete strangers or people you can't stand."

Lily eyed Madame Payne warily, who had now directed her glare onto them, which was an unusual occurrence. "I think a ball is a nice idea," she said, lowering her voice. "You never know, maybe you'll meet somebody that you'll actually like."

The chances of that seemed somewhat slim to Rose, who admittedly, was incredibly fussy when it came to people. Not to mention judgmental. She had had a few boyfriends before, but nothing serious. Lily – being the incredibly shy, but die-hard romantic that she was – preferred to occupy her time with fictional characters. However, when it came to Rose's love life, she was almost always vicariously involved.

"Oliver Nott is alright looking," Lily mused pleasantly as she slipped her book back into the shelf, "and Dante Zabini."

"I think my dad would have a seizure at the very thought of me talking to a Slytherin," Rose replied with an amused smile, "let alone dating one."

"Uncle Ronald isn't _that _bad."

Rose let out a laugh. "You never have anything bad to say about anyone, do you?"

She replied with a delicate smile and a slight blush to her fair cheeks, before turning back to her cousin, playful scolding lighting her eyes.

"There are worst things to be known for than being too nice about people."

That there is, Rose thought to herself. And somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice pointed out that cynicism probably came under that list. Not that Rose particular cared – she wasn't trying to impress anybody these days.

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><p>News of the ball spread around the corridors of Hogwarts like a bad bout of Dragon Pox. Rose found herself being bombarded by a group of giggling Third Years chasing after one poor boy who looked as if he was about to start crying out for his mother. The whole school, particularly the female population, had dissipated into madness. It was just a ball, for Merlin's sake!<p>

After she had pulled herself from the wall where the Third Years had pinned her, she scowled around the corridor, daring anyone else to cross her path. Rose had inherited a lot of things from her mother but the glare that could freeze the hottest of flames had been her favourite. She had classes to go to and her mother would murder her if something as trivial as overexcited teenagers made her late.

She was just about to open the door to Potions when the subtle sound of crying rooted her feet to the floor. Narrowing her eyes through the subdued light of the dungeons, Rose attempted to see where the sound was coming from. After a few moments of looking, another hushed voice joined the sobbing.

"Look, I'm sure he turned down a lot of girls," the voice whispered soothingly, only to be answered with more hiccupped weeping. "He isn't even worth your time."

Whoever was sobbing had managed to form a sentence, even if it was a little strangled. "But he is! You can't say you'd turn him down!"

"Well, no," the voice replied uneasily, "but he's a cold bastard. Honestly, I bet even his skin is made of ice. He's pale enough."

Another choked sob, but this time, it morphed into a pathetic laugh. "You really think so?"

The reassuring voice grew confident. "I know so. Scorpius Malfoy is a pompous prat and you're so much better without him."

With a sniffle, the pair began to move so Rose pulled back against the door and frowned into the darkness. Did girls really cry over being rejected for the ball? She assumed that was something that only happened in those books that Lily read. Still, if it had been a rejection from Scorpius Malfoy, perhaps the wailing girl had an excuse.

She hadn't really spent a lot of time around him, but the rumours that bounced around the Gryffindor dormitories were enough to satisfy her curiosity. From the moment her father had pointed him out on Platform 9 ¾, she had done exactly as he had asked – steered clear away. And, from what she had heard from her fellow Gryffindors and from the reaction of the poor, crying girl, she made a note that it was probably a good thing too. Rumour had it that, while he was breathtakingly beautiful – even Rose couldn't deny that – he was about as affectionate as a steel spike. Just as the comforting friend had said; Malfoy was a cold bastard. Her father had said that his whole family was just the same.

The very thought of him left a slightly bad taste in her mouth. With the discreet shake of her head, to move him from her thoughts, she disappeared into her Potions classroom and let the door bang behind her.


	2. II

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything recognizable from the Harry Potter series, as they belong to J. K. Rowling. This includes settings, characters and anything else. I also do not own anything recognizable from Pride and Prejudice. The Zabini twins, however, are a figment of my own imagination.

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><p>"Scorpius: one, female population of Hogwarts: zero."<p>

Out on the dewy grass of the Hogwarts grounds, students had spread themselves around in huddled groups, soaking up the last of the September sun. Among them, the strikingly handsome Dante Zabini sat outstretched, tilting his already tanned face into the light. A grin suitable for the Cheshire cat stretched across his lips.

"Or should I say, Scorpius: three hundred and thirty four, female population: zero," the dark haired boy continued, looking cheekily over to his oldest friend.

Running his hand casually through his platinum hair, Scorpius replied, his cool voice bored, "I don't know why you think I care about girls crying over me."

Dante let out a theatrical gasp. "You heartless bastard!"

With a roll of his eyes, Scorpius pushed himself into a crouch, balancing his Potions textbook effortlessly on his knees. The bones in his back cracked softly as he rolled his shoulders, distracting himself from Dante's amused gaze by looking around the busy courtyard. For some unknown reason, the residents of the Hogwarts dormitories – teachers included – had formed the idea that Scorpius was some sort of heartbreaker. Where that assumption had come from, he didn't know. After all, he even wasn't even remotely interested with name of any female that wandered the corridors; let alone toying with their hearts. He rather thought Hogwarts was a bit of a playground and counting down the days until he could venture on onto more challenging things had become a frequent pastime.

"Scorpius, mate," Dante had sidled up to him and had thrown his arm casually over Scorpius' shoulders. With an irritated jiggle from the latter, Dante dropped his arm but never his smile. "Look around! There are lips to kiss, bodies to touch and girls to worship the ground you walk on! How can you resist all of that?"

"Easily." By now, Scorpius had pushed himself to his feet and walked towards the castle. His Potions book sat snuggly in the crook of his elbow and his mind made a note that books – especially school textbooks – would be the only things that ever got "snuggly" to him in this place.

Groups of students that had crowded the arched doorways scurried out of the way as Scorpius walked their way. A few of the girls – Fifth Years, by the looks of it – sent him glares to the back of his head and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes again.

Dante's hurried footfalls echoed from the portrait covered walls as he followed him. Slightly out of breath, Dante had to stand full in front of Scorpius to stop him in his tracks. "What about the ball?" he asked, his face contorted into a serious look. "You can't really be serious about going alone."

Scorpius pondered for a moment, and ignored Dante's incredulous disgust at his reply. "Then I'll take your sister."

"_Antonia_?"

Antonia Zabini was the second, and female, half of the Zabini twins. She was tall, slender and had smooth, bronze skin which gave the image of perfect, flowing copper. Her dark hair was long – so long, in fact, that if she did not tie it up in a complicated braid, it brushed the cobbled floors as she walked. Beauty was a common trait shared between Dante and his sister, but where Dante made up for his cunning with his humour, Antonia did not. For somebody who looked like the queen of some far off desert covered land, she was incredibly icy.

Not to mention, Antonia was probably the only girl that Scorpius could call somewhat decent. She was brilliantly smart – particularly when it came to the Dark Arts – and could speak seven different languages, including Mermish. And there was definitely something in her manner of walking; whenever Antonia walked into the room, it was impossible not to watch her.

If she wasn't similarly against the idea of dating, Scorpius might have given her a shot. Instead, they regarded each other as friends that shared the same goal: getting out of Hogwarts and away from the imbeciles within in. Whereas Dante disliked his sister's coldness, but shared an unbreakable bond that only twins do. Scorpius suspected that if they were otherwise related, Dante wouldn't have made an effort with her at all.

"She's a perfectly adequate date," Scorpius said, fixing his robes in the reflection of a trophy case. "And I doubt anybody else is brave enough to ask her."

Dante made a disgruntled noise. "There's a reason behind that."

Scorpius chuckled lowly before him and Dante both descended the stairs into the dungeons. The air was cold, always cold. It reminded him of the Malfoy Manor. Perhaps that is why he liked it so much.

"Enough of my date, anyway," he said, turning to Dante as he walked. "Who are you asking?"

Out of nowhere, Dante found his shoes utterly fascinating. He scuffed his toe against the cobbled floor and looked up to Scorpius with a bright, and obviously forced, grin. "I've got too many to choose from."

He wasn't convinced. "Alright," he drawled in return. Still, Scorpius wasn't one to care about much, but something in the way Dante was acting lately was peculiar. Almost as if he was hiding something.

The conversation stopped and the pair continued on towards the common room, concealed as always behind an indiscernible entrance behind the cellar wall. Dante muttered the password the break the silence, hurrying in. For a moment, Scorpius felt that he should be hurt. It was obvious that his friend was trying to get away from his as fast as possible. However, it couldn't help but feel more curious to why his departure was so urgent and made a silent oath to himself to find out as soon as he could.

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><p>Antonia Zabini lounged on the couch, her elegant bronze legs stretching out along the emerald upholstery. The grey material of her school skirt barely covered what was necessary, much to the notice of the Slytherin boys around her. Despite her evident flaunting of her assets, the boys knew they were kidding themselves if they even imagined winning her over.<p>

People said she was like a mirror, an object she was so fond of. Cold, sharp and unforgiving; every one of her malevolent thoughts flashed in her clear, brown eyes and you could see her aversion to you in your own reflection. She was the type of person to view vanity as a virtue, rather than a fault.

In her lap, a book sat opened. _The Abhorrent Beauty: Witches in Control. _It was tattered at the edges and the pages were splotched with a suspicious dark maroon substance – a substance that was most likely blood. This only made the book much more appealing.

It was a passion of hers to read up on female Dark Wizards from throughout the ages. Gertrude Gyzenby, Jesabelle Starre, Clarissa Dawry; all these women were notorious in the Dark Arts. Dawry had a passion for torturing unsuspecting men who she had seduced into bed, something that made Antonia rather fond of her story. Her mother had always encouraged Antonia to be an independent woman, but Dante had always told Antonia that murderous feminism wasn't what she'd had in mind.

Murderous feminism wasn't a road that Antonia was planning on taking, either. Despite her interest in the stories, she merely read them for inspiration on how to claw her way to the top of the Ministry. She would be the next Artemisia Lufkin and nothing was going to step in her way. The Ministry had been under control from pathetic men for too long and, in her opinion, it was time for a change.

She was just about to turn the page to the chapter about the different ways Dawry used a feather to torture her victims when the book was wrenched from her hands. Her mouth opened to protest only to purse into the closest thing to an affection smile that she could muster.

"Antonia," a cool voice greeted, paired with an equally cool pair of grey eyes. Scorpius leaned over the back of the couch, his head dipped down over hers. The left corner of his lips tugged slightly upwards. "It's awfully unladylike to sit in such an immodest position."

Not at all self-consciously, Antonia sat up and pulled her skirt further down her thighs. "There. Are you happy now, Scorpius?"

Scorpius simply smirked. "No, not quite."

"What more could you want?" she asked, almost haughtily, turning herself to face him. "It's rude to interrupt somebody when they're reading."

"Even to ask them to the ball?"

Antonia's eyebrows rose together. "Is that supposed to be an invitation?"

With a chuckle, Scorpius moved to sit on the couch beside her, lazily hanging his arm across the back. "Is that you're acceptation?"

"No," she replied, scowling at him. "That lacked everything an invitation should be."

He didn't chuckle again, but simply pressed his lips against a smirk. "Now, now, Antonia. We both know that neither of us do anything remotely sentimental."

That was true. Everybody knew that they were the coldest people to roam the corridors of Hogwarts – that included the ghosts.

"Well, then fine. I accept," she said, tugging the book back from his grip, "but only on the condition that we don't join in on that ridiculously inane thing that they call dancing."

Scorpius gave her a tight grin, lacking in all humour. "I wouldn't dream of it."

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><p><strong>I'll admit that was a bit of a lame chapter, except for the introduction of Dante, Antonia and Scorpius. I promise next chapter will be much more interesting! As a little side note, Gertrude Gyzenby, Jesabelle Starre, Clarissa Dawry are all imaginary witches. However, Artemisia Lufkin was the first Witch to be the Minister For Magic. Just in case anybody was wondering. Right, enough of my rambling, drop me a review if you think I'm worthy.<strong>


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